Bathing Suit
by QueenMindi
Summary: Mal suddenly finds himself filthy rich, with nothing to spend his money on but a night with a certain Companion. Mal/Inara fluff. One-shot.


**Author's Note:** _So this ship is depressingly canon, by my standards (I don't normally write canon ships because, well, the original author does that well enough). But I just LOVE Mal/Inara, well okay I love all of Firefly in general. And it occurred to me that, if Inara doesn't want to quit her job, a good solution to their problem would be to give Mal a whole lot of money. XD Also I just wanted to write a make out scene. Yep. Anyway this is just a little one-shot, but I hope you enjoy. It's set somewhere vaguely post-movie, where Wash didn't die, Inara has left Serenity (again), and they're somehow miraculously not on the run from anyone at the moment.  
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**Bathing Suit_  
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Inara Serra idly scrolled through the potential clients on her screen. This was a daily chore now, since she'd left _Serenity_ and Mal's erratic schedule behind. Now she never lacked for clients, though she often found herself missing the adventure and insanity of traveling with a crew of space pirates.

Most of the clients were new; on this world, Inara only had a select few regulars. The spaces were filled in by rich businessmen visiting or passing through. She scanned their faces, unimpressed. Maybe they were rich, but Mr. Carlyle Simm was portly, and Mr. Vidal Maresh had a mean look to him.

Then her heart stopped. She knew that face. She'd know it anywhere.

Touching the screen to expand it, she glared at the man smirking back at her. "If this is your idea of a joke, Malcolm Reynolds—"

"It ain't a joke," said Mal. He was trying to act cool, but Inara knew him well enough—she could tell he was nervous. "Inara, we just pulled off the job of the century. Made us all filthy rich."

"Oh, really." Damn him, damn him for making her heart flutter just by speaking! This was why she'd left. She couldn't think straight with the captain around, and it scared her to lose her aloof, Companion-trained cool. She was supposed to be in control of herself at all times, but Mal always seemed to take control of everything—including her emotions.

"Yeah." Mal grinned. "Wash and Zoe told me to drop 'em somewhere tropical and not come back for a month. The rest of 'em are just as eager for an opportunity to spend their booty. So I brought 'em to your planet. Suppose it's got some real nice vacation spots."

"Which brings us to what the hell you're doing on my client list," Inara prompted.

Mal's confident bluster diminished somewhat. "I wanted to—Inara, y' always said I'd never afford what you asked, but now I _can_. And I just thought…"

Her pulse was racing, but Inara kept her face impassive. "I do not choose my clients merely by how rich they are," she said coldly, "no matter what you think, Mal."

He ran a hand through his hair. Had he tried to tame it with some kind of grease or gel? It looked terrible, but Inara wanted to smile at the thought of it.

"I know," he said at last. "You know what I am, all the gory details. If you think we're spiritually compatible or whatever it is you require, then fine. If not, well, I'll be on a beach down south, drinkin' something fruity out of a glass with a tiny umbrella. But I'll sorely miss the chance to see you again."

He made as if to end the connection. Inara leaned forward. "Wait."

Mal paused, hope lighting his eyes for a moment.

"I've been meaning to take a vacation," Inara lied. "Let me join you at the beach. I will not promise you anything, but I would like to see you and the crew again."

A smile spread over Mal's face. "I'll come getcha in the shuttle tomorrow afternoon, if you ain't busy."

Inara had a client scheduled for tomorrow night. But she didn't hesitate to say, "I'll be waiting."

* * *

><p>The beaches on Inara's planet featured bright blue sand, a combination of natural chemicals in the seawater and some blue dye provided by the tourism committee, who thought it would entice gawkers away from the ordinary gray or yellow sand on <em>their<em> planet's beaches.

Inara surveyed the crowded strip. "I don't see them," she said.

Mal laughed. "That's 'cause you ain't used to seeing 'em in bathing suits. Which, in Jayne's case, is lucky for you." He leaned close, brushing her shoulder with his, and pointed.

She sighted down his arm and finally recognized Kaylee, wearing a tiny little purple-flowered bikini and flirting outrageously with Simon in plain black swim shorts. Jayne watched them jealously from a few yards away, a beer in his hand, wearing a horrible pair of orange-and-teal shorts that were several inches too short.

River was there, too, in a blue one-piece suit, putting the finishing touches on a sand-sculpted mermaid tail around her legs. Wash and Zoe were nowhere to be seen, but Inara could very well guess what _they_ were doing.

"I feel as though I'm wearing too many clothes," she commented as she and Mal made their way toward the crew.

Mal snorted a laugh. "That's a first."

Before she could lay into him for being rude, Kaylee looked up and spotted her. "Inara!" she cried, and ran to embrace her, enveloping her in the scent of sun-sweat and coconut body oil.

The rest waved and called out greetings, even River, though her movements broke the mermaid tail she'd painstakingly constructed.

"Don't you have a swimming suit?" Kaylee asked.

Inara looked down at her long skirt and midriff-baring blouse. "I don't often swim," she admitted. Then, to tease Mal, "But when I do, I swim naked."

Jayne suddenly looked a lot more interested. "Wanna come swimmin' with me right now?" he suggested.

Mal whapped him over the head.

* * *

><p>The sun had set, most people had gone indoors, and the beach was now almost empty. Inara wandered out onto the resort's wide, fountain-studded terrace, away from the fancy restaurant where they'd all had dinner together, laughing and reminiscing about the old days. Jayne and Kaylee had terrorized the waiters, stacking the expensive crystal water glasses in a highly breakable pyramid.<p>

Mal had played nice, or what passed for nice with him. Hadn't started a single fight, hadn't even let anyone else start one for him. He'd acted as cool and relaxed as Inara had ever seen him; this world was Alliance, but for once he wasn't watching his back every minute. She couldn't tell if it was an act, or if riches had really calmed him down. It was probably the former. The day Mal calmed down, Hell'd freeze over.

"Hey, 'Nara."

He'd followed her, just as she thought he would. "Mal," she said. The terrace overlooked the moonlit ocean. The view looked like a postcard, like the cover of a romance novel, and oh son of a—he'd planned this, hadn't he? Picked the most romantic spot in the system to take her, played it sweet, got her laughing with old friends, systematically destroying her defenses. And this was him closing in for the kill.

"You mad at me?" he asked, leaning back against the balcony, facing her with his arms crossed. "You've gone all closed-up and quiet, like you do when you're 'bout to tear me a new one."

"I'm not mad," said Inara. "Just—I suppose I spend too much time in the cities up north. I don't see a view like this very often."

"Me neither," said Mal, not looking at the ocean.

One would think that, being a trained Companion, hearing men praise her beauty, grace, and skill every day in the purplest prose imaginable, she'd be immune to blushing.

"Mal—"

"I ain't pushin', Inara, but you know what I want. Rest is up to you." And he just stood there, arms crossed, looking at her with that infuriating _face_—

She had never wanted a man so much in her life.

"It's a bad idea," she said, arm's length away, avoiding his gaze.

"Aren't all my ideas bad?" He grinned at her. She hugged her arms around her body to give her hands something, _anything_ else to do.

"If you don't want me, Inara, just say so," he said, after a long silence. "I'm a man. I can take it."

And suddenly she _was_ mad. She met his eyes, and he took an involuntary step back. "I hate you," she whispered. "I hate you for putting me in this position. I've known _all my life_ that I couldn't ever fall in love, that for a Companion, loving is dangerous, love is ruin—and—and—"

What was she saying? _Stop while you still can, stupid girl_.

"—and then I meet you, Mal Reynolds, and you're rude and interfering and disrespectful from the start… you know, before I even handed over my first payment on that shuttle, I knew I should get out of there. And I didn't want to. That should have just made me run faster." Inara wished she could cut out her tongue. She glanced at Mal, but he was just standing there, looking at her the way he always did. What must he think of her?

"Please don't listen to me," she muttered, turning away. "I don't know what I'm—"

"Well, that was a mighty long list of insults," said Mal easily, "though I s'pose I deserve worse, really, for callin' you 'whore' all the time."

"No, Mal, I didn't mean to insult you," Inara said miserably.

"I heard loud and clear what you meant," said Mal. His hands were on her shoulders, turning her to face him, and then

he kissed her.

This had never happened before, not when they were both conscious, and Inara was suddenly, insanely glad it hadn't. She never would have been able to stick to her rules if he'd tried this even once. But now that it was happening—now that Malcolm Reynolds had one warm hand in her curly hair and the other pressing into the small of her back, and his tongue in her mouth tasting of fancy wine—rules were a thing of the past.

She slid her hands up to his shoulders, hooking one arm around his neck and standing up on tiptoes to pull herself closer. _Mal._ Mal was kissing her, finally, _finally_. If she was honest with herself, she'd wanted him to do it ever since she told him he wasn't allowed to, and he said "I'll post a sign."

He broke off to breathe, and she kept herself pressed close to him, _needing_ to touch him. He inhaled the scent of her hair and she realized she had a handful of his shirt.

Mal said, his whisper tickling her ear, "For the record, that thing you were tryin' to say before… me, too."

"Mal…"

"Inara," he said, drawing back enough to meet her eyes, to stroke her cheek. "I've a hankering to see you in your bathing suit."

* * *

><p>Wash, watching from the window of the fancy restaurant, turned to the others. "You guys gotta come see this," he said, grinning.<p>

Kaylee, at his side, was positively wriggling with delight. "It's about _time_," she exclaimed.

Zoe peered past them. "Well, whaddya know. He finally grew a pair."

"Shouldn't we give them some privacy?" Simon asked.

River's eyes followed the couple, now walking away hand in hand. "She's going to charge him double."


End file.
